


lee yongbok and peter han

by micky (we_have_cake), we_have_cake



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3RACHA, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Changbin is a Coward™️, College AU, Fuck feelings, Jisung is dumb but what else is new, Light Angst, M/M, gay kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_have_cake/pseuds/micky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_have_cake/pseuds/we_have_cake
Summary: peter han ; nouna subject for conversationlee yongbok ; nounan ungodly mess, am i wrong?





	1. Peter Han

(( new note: 12:26 am ))

 

Peter Han

 

Now he was a subject for conversation alright.  
He was only one day older than me, but he acted like that day made him a million times better.  
If we were in Australia, or even Malaysia that one bloody day wouldn’t matter at all, if I walked over and beat his ass he would have to respect me.  
Not the other way around.  
But unfortunately we weren’t.

No, we were in Korea as part of the same creative arts exchange programme, him for music and rap, me for dance, and goddamnit if he wasn’t milking that one day for all it was worth.  
Even when I was at home I couldn’t escape Peter and his leering perfection, because the two of us were staying with my cousin Chris and his family while we attended school bless them.  
And as much as I was loathe to admit it, perfection it was. He was just so inherently good at everything, he could dance, he could sing, he could rap, he spoke not only Korean, Malay, and English with a startling fluency, but was in the middle of learning Japanese as well.  
He was pretty and powerful, charismatic and funny and possibly the worst thing of all about Peter Han?  
He was so fucking nice.  
It boiled my blood in my veins that I didn’t have a single good reason to hate the guy, other than correcting me when I forgot to call him hyung, and using his age as a lever when it was time to take out the trash, Peter was a fucking angel.

And my best friend.  
Ex best friend.  
God what a fucking mistake.

  
But then there was 3racha.  
That’s right, 3racha.  
3racha was a rap group my cousin Chris started with a couple of other guys, the first was a guy named Changbin who we’ll get to later. . . And the other was Peter.  
That’s right.

Peter fucking Han.  
Do you have any idea how it breaks a person when their own cousin picks a random ass exchange student for their close knit group of friends without even asking you? It hurts. A lot.  
I know I’m in Korea to study dance, but I rap as well.  
Chris knows that, back when I lived in Australia we used to text all the time and he knew about my passion for music.  
But then he goes and picks Peter Han.

Oh.  
Sorry.  
“J.one.”

That’s his stage name, yeah, he has a fucking stage name.  
The J stands for his Korean name “Jisung.”  
Meaning “Love of the stars.” Because even that had to be cool and perfect, and the “One.” Supposedly stands for how he’s one of a kind.  
So maybe I’m jealous.  
That’s fine, I’ve a right to be you know!  
He has everything I want.  
Perfect face perfect voice perfect flow and poise and body and energy and charisma, a close friendship with the man I saw as a role model most of my teenage years, a place in a rap group. . . And Changbin.  
Okay so maybe he doesn’t have Changbin in quite the same way as I want him but he has him anyway.  
I suppose some explaining is in order.

Changbin, or SpearB, is the third corner on the unbreakable triangle that is 3racha, older than Peter, younger than Chris, with just the right amount of cynicism and sass to level them out and god was he pretty.  
Even though he was shorter than I was by a full two inches, his personality filled up the room no matter what mood he was in.  
The first few times he came over I’ll admit I was scared, he seemed cold and sarcastic and dark but the mystery was intriguing.  
Then he started coming over more and I learned not to take him at face value, SpearB was the dark mysterious bad boy who loved a dark rapping style and blowing cigarette smoke into the ink black sky of Daegu nights.  
Changbin was something else entirely, Changbin loved Hannah’s pancakes and large sweaters, Changbin was strawberry shortcake with whipped cream and braided silver rings on long delicate fingers.  
And Changbin slept over on our couch with a stuffed Munchlax in his arms.

And I liked him, a lot.  
I told Peter as much one night as he lay, legs crossed at the ankles, on the bed above mine, jotting down lyrics for a song 3racha was calling ‘Runners High.’, sore but sated from our intense dance class earlier that day.  
At first he’d laughed.  
Then he realized I was serious,  
And we talked about it.  
A lot.

It was all fun and games when I liked Changbin for how pretty he was, and how the two sides of him fit so well together that they were like different flats on the same coin.  
But then it got scary, when I started seeing him for the person inside, started seeing the laughter on his lips and in his eyes, when the four of us stood on the pier of the beach, started seeing the love and admiration in his heart watching Chris and Peter freestyle while I beatboxed, the way he broke inside when Lucas came home from school upset over a bad grade.  
The way he broke inside when Peter mentioned his family, the way he broke when Chris broke. When university was too tough, when the late nights and stress of deadlines got to the both of them and they broke together.  
The worst of it all was how I broke right along with him.  
Through it all Peter was like a loving diary, I told him everything, because on top of everything else, Peter Han was an amazing listener.

Damn him.  
And damn me for trusting him.

Because less than a week after I told him I thought I was in love with Changbin, Changbin approached me to tell me he’d noticed my crush and wanted to let me know that it was never going to happen.  
Then he stopped coming over.  
And Chris moved into a University dorm with Changbin as his roommate and Peter started going over there to write and rap and compose.  
And Peter had everything I wanted, and I couldn’t touch any of it.  
Peter Han was my best friend, or so I thought.  
After that I told him to get out of my life and he moved into Chris’ old bedroom.

All the better for me to not have to deal with his perfect gloating face.  
I told.  
He snitched.  
And now my life is royally fucked up because Changbin hates me and when I confronted Peter about it, all he could do was look at me sadly, with those stupid chubby cheeks and dimples of his and tell me that I wasn’t in Australia anymore, and that just homosexuality wasn’t viewed the same way here.  
I hate him.  
Stupid.  
Perfect.  
Beautiful.  
Awful.  
Peter Han.


	2. Chapter 2

Lee Yongbok.  
God he was a mess wasn’t he?  
I first met Yongbok as part of a creative arts exchange programme during my last year of high school, myself transferring from Malaysia and him from Australia and the both of us just happened to get stuck together at my internet friend Bang Chan’s house.

I learned later that Chan and Yongbok were cousins which is why he was there, I could see it if I looked hard, they both had the accent of course, and the dimples.  
Not identical by any stretch, but similar enough for the biology to make sense.  
I’d known Chan for a while by then, he was one of my closest friends and we’d met over a music forum, matched due to our similar taste in tunes.  
When I mentioned that I was planning on transferring to Korea for the programme he was quick as shit to offer me a place to stay, saying that he thought Yongbok and I would get along great, that we were about the same age.  
Yeah.  
About the same age.  
Turns out I’m literally a single fucking day older than the kid.  
But that’s the smallest of my problems.  
We used to be such good friends, the two of us.  
Together through thick and thin, bothering each other about homework deadlines and teasing one another about our honey tanned skin.  
I’m getting ahead of myself.

After moving to Korea I quickly bonded with Chan, with him being even nicer in person than he was over text it wasn’t exactly a difficult thing to do.  
Then he introduced me to his friend Changbin, the two of them were studying music production in university together and man Changbin was my fucking dude.  
That guy was dope as shit, all leather jackets and dark jeans at face value with a soft side that’d make any school girl swoon. . . Any school girl that is, and Yongbok.  
But hey, we’ll talk about that later.  
As it goes Chan, Changbin, and I were all hanging out one night when we started just throwing some beats together for fun.  
Chan and I had talked before about starting a rap group some day, but had never really put too much meat into the idea, until that night.  
I’d just thrown together a couple tracks with a fun, funky flow to it and next thing you know Bin was spitting out some hard bars, free styling like it’s what he was meant to do and damn he was good.

And so Chan and my, three am crackhead idea came to life, and we called it 3racha.  
But even through all this, Yongbok and I were pretty tight.  
We shared a lot of the same classes and he helped me a lot with my English assignments.

And when he started liking Changbin as more than a friend, I laughed at first because I thought he was joking, when it turned out he wasn’t, well. . .   
Maybe I helped out a little behind the scenes.  
Inviting Yongbok along on previously 3racha strictly activities such as our weekly breakfast at the cafe that marked the midpoint between Chan’s house and their university, and to our studio for our frequent ‘jam sessions’, turns out he knows how to lay down a sick beat for a freestyle battle. (Is there nothing he can’t do?)  
Prompting hyung to spend more time around the kid, telling him to stay the night on our couch because Chan’s little sister Hannah made the best pancakes, asking for his help studying for a maths exam, little things like that, just getting them around each other more.

Then it escalated.  
Because one night, when everything was dark and quiet, Yongbok spoke up from his bunk and told me that he was in love.  
And damn if dealing with his problems didn’t sound a whole lot better than focusing on my own.  
I started out by talking to Chan about it, the guy was insightful and had already picked up of Yongbok’s feelings but told me that it would be better to let him work it out on his own, allow him to grow and blossom in his own relationships and that I had helped as much as I could but sometimes you just have to give it a rest.  
Maybe I should have listened.  
Then I told Changbin.  
He got it, he really did, and nestled into the corner booth of our favorite little coffee shop with a steaming cup of black americano tucked into his hands he told me that he’d fallen in love with Yongbok as well.  
Great! That’s what I thought, they were both in love, problem solved, all Changbin had to do was bust into the Bang household and kiss the hell out of the kid.

Wrong.  
Apparently.  
Turns out Changbin has a lot of issues, internal, mental issues.  
He’s dead convinced that he’s a terrible person and that being with Yongbok would ruin his future.  
Fucking lies.  
Every bit of it.  
But Changbin was certain it was true.

He told me about all the ‘nasty’ things he’s thought about doing to Yongbok and how if he let himself be with him there was no way he would be able to hold back.  
To be honest they didn’t sound that nasty to me, just really, really fucking hot, but because Yongbok was ‘so much younger than him’ (read: two and a half years tops) it automatically made him a dirty nasty person for thinking about a ‘child’ in such a sexual way.

Never mind that the kid is already eighteen.  
It’s not like he was having fantasies about Jeongin, the junior in my honors calculus class.

But Changbin decided to confront Yongbok about his feelings and tell him that it would never happen.  
Well fuck me right?  
Because now he’s going to think I snitched.  
So he confronted him, stopped coming over, stopped attending hangouts when he knew Yongbok would be there, and to top it all off he got a dorm room on campus and asked Chan to be his roommate.

And Yongbok blamed me.

And I don’t blame him for it, because all he ever wanted was a relationship with his cousin and the man of his dreams and now, I had both and he couldn’t touch either.  
But at the same time.  
I didn’t mean to do it and now I’m short one best friend, not to mention that my sorry excuse of a love life can only be further damaged by having Yongbok hate my fucking innards.  
Because Hey!!

Lee Minho.

Lee Minho, Yongbok’s dance teacher and my big fat homosexual crush.  
The crush is fat, not him of course. . . He’s perfect.  
See back when Yongbok and I were friendly and he didn’t start every morning my poisoning my coffee with dishwasher detergent, I used to tag along to his dance classes because they were all so mesmerizing.  
The way he moved was so elegant and sophisticated unlike his memey personality.  
After a couple of sessions, he switched to a different class.  
A ‘gifted’ class, where I met Hwang Hyunjin, a boy both too tall, talented, and gifted for his age, Kim Seungmin, a kid who had the talent but lacked a lot of the passion, and Minho.

God, Minho.

Lee Minho was the gifted instructor of Yongbok’s gifted class and he was fucking beautiful.  
Just as beautiful in a black t-shirt and track pants as he was in a flowing royal purple dress shirt and ass hugging black slacks, absolutely stunning.  
And damn if he wasn’t touchy as hell.  
When I finally worked up the guts to talk to him, mouth dry and palms sweaty, he grabbed my hand, gave me a hug and said that my friend Yongbok had told him so much about me.  
I almost died.

Apparently he had been told that I was an amazing dancer and was wondering if I would like to attend a couple of his classes.  
I had been so shook.  
Yongbok had only winked from across the room.  
So I started taking classes with him.  
Maybe wearing a lot of sleeveless shirts.  
Maybe borrowing a lot of Changbin’s track pants because they were a little tighter around the ass than mine.  
Maybe messing up my body rolls on purpose so he would have to show me again and again and again.  
Maybe despite my incessant and obvious intentional screwups he never did anything but laugh, give me that little eye smile, and walk me through the steps a hundredth time.

Maybe I was in love.

I never told Yongbok but I’m sure he caught on.  
In fact I’m sure he always knew.  
Otherwise I doubt he would have told Minho that I would be the best student to demonstrate the tango on.  
Or looked at me with that ‘get em baby’ look when Minho showcased the perfect way to caress your partners hip, and dip them low, or look at them with believable passion.

But Yongbok never said a word, and bless him for it.  
He was a better friend than I ever was.  
We started hanging out, the three of us, whenever we weren’t with Chan and Changbin.  
Turns out Minho and Chan are in the same college courses, they know each other well and are pretty good friends.  
That’s dope.  
Flash forward, I worked up the courage to ask Minho out.  
Approach him after dance class one day because I was already so sweaty that he wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous I was.  
He looked at me with stars in his eyes and told me he would love to see a movie with me.

Which made Changbin’s excuse even dumber.  
Sure he’s two and a half years older than Yongbok but Minho is at least four years my senior.  
So we went to the movies together the next week.  
And then to dinner the same night.  
I paid for the tickets and popcorn.  
He paid for the pasta and cheesecake.  
And we took a walk.  
Through the park.  
When it was all dark and quiet, nothing but us and the moon and the crickets.  
And he stopped me underneath the gondola, pulled out his phone and played my favorite music.

And we danced with my hands on his hips and his breath on my neck and we connected in ways never possible beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of his dance studio classroom.  
He kissed me with his entire being.  
I kissed him back with mine.  
And he looked into my eyes and told me he would love nothing more than to see me again.

And then Changbin told Yongbok that they couldn’t be together.

And Yongbok told me to get out of his life and leave him alone.

And out of respect for him and his dreams, I quit the dance class, moved into Chan’s old bedroom and stopped seeing Minho.

I still run into him sometimes.

When I’m over at the university visiting Chan to compose a new song, or when I’m jogging near the dance studio, or when I’m going shopping for groceries and decide to stop into my old usual coffee shop for a drink.  
I’ll happen to run across him.  
And he looks at me as though his heart is a thousand pieces.

Because Changbin told Yongbok that they couldn’t be together and it broke him.  
And I looked at Minho and told him we couldn’t be together, and it broke us.  
And now everyone is broken.  
Because of Seo Changbin, that fucking coward.  
And because of Lee Yongbok, the guy who let him get away with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and emotional support are highly appreciated


End file.
